crack the stash, then be quiet in the midday sun...

"A convoluted mind is somewhat of a conundrum, when broken down into small science. Better it be described as a neverending road of twists and turns, which undoubtedly amplify aching wounds that just barely begun to break the surface. With that sense staring amongst a gaping hole, the unraveling of emotions commenced layer by layer, then piece by piece, as boundaries were withered away and walls crumbled as if they were nothing but thin sheets of paper. A mind that was so warped into a distant oblivion, had been damaged beyond recognition, by anyone, let alone herself. It was there that she sat lazily gazing out into the dark abyss of night, without an ounce of hope shedding down light to warm her soul. How was she supposed to move on? The anchored weight of her actions had subconsciously encarcerated her below rock bottom and she felt as if she'd reside there indefinitely. No fathomable excuse seemed at all worthy enough of bailing her out of her current misfortune. For she believed wholeheartedly that she deserved a far worse punishment for her crimes. She was a guilty woman. And no sincere number of monologues begging for God's mercy were going to change that."